


Trained Killer Octopus

by Mapal



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-02
Updated: 2015-10-02
Packaged: 2018-04-24 11:38:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4918102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mapal/pseuds/Mapal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I saw <a href="http://justletmeremember.tumblr.com/post/130208277415/otpprompts-person-a-is-in-bed-reading-a-book">this</a> and stuff happened</p><p>This has been translated by the lovely bbangle <3 Thank you! Read it in Chinese <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/4943848">here</a></p>
    </blockquote>





	Trained Killer Octopus

**Author's Note:**

> I saw [this](http://justletmeremember.tumblr.com/post/130208277415/otpprompts-person-a-is-in-bed-reading-a-book) and stuff happened
> 
> This has been translated by the lovely bbangle <3 Thank you! Read it in Chinese [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4943848)

It had been one of those days. The days where a number was tricky, and things didn’t go to plan, and for once John got caught off guard. Harold could hear the shower running still, the light pouring from the slightly open bathroom door into the dimly lit bedroom. Another bullet to the vest, another cracked rib, and Harold found himself glad that John had listened to him and actually wore the vest in the first place. 

John must have cracked every rib in his life. Harold would place a bet that his xrays were pretty interesting. He turned a page of his book, eyes flitting back to the top of the left page to start scanning the words again. Sometimes there was nothing like a trashy romance novel to keep you entertained. It was cheesy, overdramatic, and slightly awkward, but it was a fun read. Harold could enjoy nearly every book but this sort of romance novel, the kind with the long haired shirtless guy and the doe-eyed petite woman on the cover, provided a lot of amusement.

The comforter was resting over his legs up to his waist, his back propped comfortably against a couple of cushions. He loved the large bed that felt like it wanted to swallow him whole, but it was even better now it had another body to warm it at night.

The shower cut off and there was the sound of feet squeaking against ceramic before a towel rustled. Almost sub-consciously, Harold reached out to fold back the corner of the comforter, leaving it open at his side like a hotel turn down service. A few minutes later, John emerged in grey sweatpants, torso bare to show the large, angry bruise on his ribs. His hair was dripping, his skin slightly damp, and Harold got the feeling he didn’t want to waste any more time drying off.

John seemed to enjoy getting into that soft bed as much as he did. Without looking, he lifted one arm as John crawled onto the bed, slinking low and careful across the mattress until he was at Harold’s side. His movements were slow and cautious, his ribs clearly still sore, and Harold tore his eyes away from the pages for a second to look down at the man who was curling up beside him, head in his lap.

“Better?” he asked quietly, letting his arm drop gently to rest on John’s strong shoulder. John hummed and closed his eyes, tucked up against Harold’s side with one leg draped over his own, one arm over his waist with a hand on his hip.

Harold adjusted briefly, placing one hand at the spine of the book, thumb pressing into the internal crease, and letting the other settle softly against John’s head, fingers stroking through his damp hair slowly. He heard the long sigh and felt the body beside him curl tighter, tangling up in his legs easily. Harold would have to disturb John at some point so he didn’t have to spend another night asleep sat up, but for now he was more than happy to feel him pressed up against him like that, hear his soft breathing and feel his warm skin.

John fell asleep fast, soon passed out with his face buried against Harold’s hip, and Harold soon followed. He just managed to slid down the bed, further into John’s embrace until the trained-killer-octopus had nearly every limb wrapped around him, before he was losing his grip on wakefulness.


End file.
